


UnderHallows

by MercyWitch



Series: UnderHallows [1]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Fantasy, Multi, Occult
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-21
Updated: 2017-12-15
Packaged: 2018-12-18 10:45:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11872698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MercyWitch/pseuds/MercyWitch
Summary: An AU set long before Frisk ever falls, before all the characters that we know and love are who they are now.  Set in a past time period, the story combines fantasy, occult, and horror aspects as the twisted tale is spun.  How the Underground is changed by the life of a single human and how her very existence touches every soul in the kingdom, for better or worse.





	1. Wishful Thinking

As she blinked, regaining consciousness, she appreciated how life had once again found a way of surprising her. Without moving her head, she could see the hole she’d fallen into hundreds of feet above. The moon’s gaze shone through, bathing her and the small glade in nocturnal light. The smell of dew and lush vegetation permeated the air. Not that it was strange as she could feel soft grass and moss beneath her. The moisture from the plant life had soaked into her clothes, a bad sign as there was a chill in the air. With some effort, the woman managed to sit up, noting the dull throbbing in her head and sharp discomfort in her left arm. She shifted her weight to the right and took a slow look around. What she could see of the cavern was bizarre to say the least. Plants with enormous glowing bulbs. Gigantic ferns and mushrooms loomed like a prehistoric forest. Ancient, crumbling pillars and remnants of a settlement that didn’t look like anything in the area. But the moonlight was limited, giving way to a pitch darkness.

“A peculiar wonderland I’ve fallen into,” she commented to herself. The pain in her head was failing to leave and she admitted defeat. She’d simply have to trudge on with a headache and some bruising. She’d dealt with worse. Besides, the night would be much too harsh as the temperature continued to drop. If there were crumbling structures, she might be lucky enough to find one with a roof and walls around.

As she made to stand, she shifted her weight to the left, using her arm to balance herself. Her momentary absent-mindedness punished her severely. The woman hadn’t had a second to comprehend the pain when a sickening crack echoed through the cavern, followed by her scream as she fell back, clutching her broken arm tightly.

 

 

The ruins of monsterkind’s first settlement in the Underground, Home, was a contradiction to Gaster. It was an empty place, its only inhabitants now being overgrowth and the rare fauna species that could be found down there. Nature had all but completely taken back the area, swallowing constructs and bringing the once strong masonry walls of homes to their knees. Very different from the bustling and panicked masses that occupied the area several centuries ago. There weren’t many monsters who remembered the chaos back then, let alone the conflict before. Only a handful, with Gaster being one of their dwindling number, were even alive to recall the events with clarity.

He was brought from his thoughts as heavy crunching made its way towards him. His wisp hallow lit the area well enough with only a trickle of magic as it moved through the air fluidly, a silent sentry. Gaster knew the footfalls all too well. Asgore approached holding a plight, its cerulean glow a contrast to Gaster’s fuchsia. His Majesty’s face was grim as he handed over the plant, allowing Gaster to examine it. Black spots dotted the underside of the plight’s leaves. He frowned.

“Not good then,” Asgore mused. Gaster shook his head, summoning his signing hands.

“No. If the pattern holds, then we will have another crisis on our hands.” It wasn’t the news his friend had wanted to hear, but it wasn’t news he enjoyed giving either. It would only be a matter of time.

A sharp scream echoed through the cavern, setting both monsters on alert. This was a restricted area. There shouldn’t have been anyone down there with them.

“Hello?” Brilliant. In the depths of the Ruins, no royal guards, completely isolated and the king of all monsters was giving away their presence to a possible threat. He was a caring and compassionate king, but definitely not as clever as his father had been. He’d always been that way. Perhaps it was why he was a good king beloved by his people, Gaster included. There was no point in hiding now.

“Are you injured?” He rolled his eyes. Now Gaster was the foolish one. Whoever they were had just heard an odd assortment of sounds that wouldn’t even sound like speech. And without his hands to sign for them, they’d never even know he’d spoken. He sighed with frustration. His damned speech impediment had always been such a burden. Even his own family had been unable to understand him for several years of his childhood until he learned to sign. He ignored his friend’s sympathetic gaze, feeling dim-witted enough without someone feeling sorry for his lapse of judgement or unknown speech pattern.

“Yes! Help me! Please!!”

Gaster’s eyelights shrunk to pinpoints as he flinched. The woman’s response was panicked, desperate, and impossible. But he’d heard it. It was a clear answer to his question. There was no room for miscommunication. She’d understood his speech. With that realization, he was off like a shot into the darkness, only his hallow gifting him with enough light not to stumble over crumbling buildings and decrepit structures.

“Gaster! Wait! It could be a nightmare!” And he’d normally agree with Asgore. His logical self would’ve argued that it was far more likely to be a trick rather than reality. The probability of someone mysteriously understanding his raw speech after all these centuries without ever meeting him or having anytime to familiarize themselves with his vocalizations was non-existent. But his long abandoned hope would have none of it. Logic had no say in this moment. It wasn’t welcome. His grandmother’s voice came back to him, embers of memories he’d sanctioned away. How she’d told him of Soul Mates, with every soul having another it was bound with. How they would transcend all boundaries as love always did. How that person would be the one to understand him, in every sense of the word. And how that person would find him when he least expected it. Unsure if it was hope or desperation that fueled his frantic run through the cavern, Gaster wasn’t sure and didn’t care.

There was a bright glade ahead, the moon’s light shining down through a hole in the surface above. On the ground, a figure in green and orange was curled in on themselves. Was this really happening? His Soul Mate waiting for him under an almost divine presentation under the moon’s watch? It was like something out of the most idealistic of fairytales.

Gaster stopped at the edge of the nocturnal beams, logic catching up with him. The shape was familiar. His childish, whimsical hope was extinguished in an instant. A human. A human?! Was this some sort of sick joke?! He frowned, having made a fool of himself a second time within minutes of his last blunder. Over some wishful thinking and a ridiculous story no less. Maybe he was finally losing his mind after all these years. The human was curled up on the ground, staring up at him. Blood covered the right side of her face and her left arm was swollen and discolored, likely broken. Then again, it was a miracle that she was alive at all, given the distance she’d fallen. With a sigh, he walked over. A patient was a patient and he couldn’t ignore her injuries in good conscious. He knelt next to her and summoned his hands out of habit.

“Roll onto your back.” He summoned another hand for under her neck as he helped her move. She was shivering, her clothes soaked with dew from the plant life. Her distinct lack of clothes was peculiar. Spring in this region of the world was still rather chilly for most forms of life, particularly in the mornings and evenings. However, this human was garbed in only the most simplest of attire. A top, corset, and long skirt made the outfit a dress both light and maneuverable. Hardly what you’d wear out without a shawl or coat. Perhaps she wasn’t very bright. Her left forearm was excessively swollen, the bruised, mottled skin taut with three jagged gashes oozing blood. Gaster summoned three fey hallows, more than enough for the task with his own magic.

“Stem the blood loss and begin an analysis on her condition.” The three feys flitted and went to work. “You, bring his Majesty here,” he said to the wisp. It floated away as he went back to the human, pulling his cloak off and draping it over her. It wouldn’t do much, but it would keep off the chill. With one of his spectral hands under her neck, she was able to meet his gaze. Curious. He’d have thought she’d be panicked or screaming, what with a skeleton at her side summoning spirits out of nowhere. Maybe she really was dim-witted.

“You need to stay awake,” he said. “What’s your name?” She looked distracted for a moment before answering.

“A-Aine.” So, it wasn’t a joke or wishful thinking after all. She could understand his vocalizations without the assistance of signing. Gaster pushed that mystery aside for a moment, dismissing his extra hands to focus on his work. The feys were feeding their findings back to him. As expected, the majority of her injuries were internal. However, infection and a fever were setting in. Not unusual considering the environment and the unknown amount of time she’d been there. He began a simple healing spell, the feys acting as conduits for his magic as he mended the tears and splits in her organs. Her left forearm was completely shattered. It wasn’t out of his ability to fix, but it was going to take weeks for her to recover function fully.

“Keep talking. Favorite color?” Simple questions. Nothing complicated that she’d have to figure out. Just something easy to keep her awake.

“Green…” She‘d lost a lot of blood, much of it possibly caked in her long autumn hair underneath her head. More was evident on the grass, though difficult to discern as the cavern’s moisture was washing the blades clean.

“Favorite food.” There were no humans to draw blood from as she was the first they’d seen in centuries. And he knew for a fact that monster blood wasn’t compatible. No, that had been a question answered early in his career. Maybe he could take a small sample of her own blood and use a replication spell to create more viable material…  
“Aine! Favorite food,” he pressed firmly.

“O-oh! Uh…t-tomato soup?” It sounded more like a question. She was having trouble staying aware. That was fine. He was almost finished. Just a little longer and- “What’s yours?” Gaster’s entire train of thought ground to an immediate halt. Why did she care? “C’mon, you want me to t-talk, right?”

“Pumpkins,” he replied half-heartedly and without much thought. He felt his soul tighten. This was uncomfortable. He didn’t want to share anything, no matter how insignificant, with a human. He’d been too casual with her, seeing her more as a patient rather than what she was. She was being nosy. Yes. That was why this felt weird. He’d always detested nosy people. Satisfied that an explanation was at hand, Gaster composed himself once more, correcting his lax posture.

“What’s your-“

“That’s enough,” he said sternly, now cautious and suspicious of her intentions. “Will others be looking for you?” The human appeared confused, her brow knitting. “Those who care about you. Will they-“ He was abruptly cut off as she began to choke and cough. His healing spell had stopped. He must’ve dropped the spell when he got distracted. What was wrong with him today? He’d never been so scattered before. “Stopstopstopstop! Calm down!” Gaster casted the spell again, this time putting more into it. The human’s fit began to subside. A sad, wry smile crept over her face, like he’d told a particularly poor joke.

“It’s sad. I’ll die down here and no one will ever know what happened to me.” This made Gaster pause. Was she delirious? Did she have some sort of mental condition? A random skeleton treating potentially fatal injuries in an isolated cavern that she’d fallen hundreds of feet into didn’t concern her. Instead, she’d been curious about his favorite food. She hadn’t asked her whereabouts, who he was, what he was doing, or any logical query for her situation. Shock. It had to be. There was no other conclusion for her behavior.

Heavy footfalls were nearing from the distance. His Majesty would be much too trusting for the human to remain awake. Compounded with her grievous injuries, he would likely give her the deepest of sympathies and lower his guard as such. Gaster dismissed the fey.

“I’m going to put you to sleep. Moving you without anesthetics would be painful and your body needs rest.” Her eyes stared, unblinking and unnerving, like she’d seen through his lie. “You’ll be fine.” Oddly, with that broad sense of assurance, the human brightened with a genuine smile.

“Thank you.” He was thankful himself as she closed her eyes, feeling much more comfortable without her stare. The spell was fast and left her unconscious. He hadn’t lied about the discomfort of moving her, nor was she in danger while asleep now. So why was this unease lingering?

“Gaster,” Asgore said with a scolding tone. “You shouldn’t just run off like that. It could’ve…” The king trailed off at the sight of the human, clearly as stricken as Gaster had been. He allowed his friend a moment to come to terms with this turn of events before proceeding with the task at hand.

“Gawk later, your Majesty. I need your assistance.”

“O-oh right. What can I do?” There were so many ways Gaster wanted to answer that, but his friend was sensitive, wearing his big heart on his sleeves.

“I will need you to carry her. If I can get her back to the lab, I can stabilize her.” Asgore didn’t question him, didn’t ask why a hallow couldn’t do it or if she was a threat or anything. He just followed Gaster’s instructions, kneeling before the human.

“Will she be alright?” The doctor nodded as his hands continued to sign his words.

“Yes. She has several hairline fractures, severe contusions to the prefrontal-“

“In simple terms,” the king said with a groan.

“She has a shattered arm and a concussion. Be careful with her head and arm.” Seeming appeased by the answer, Asgore carefully scooped his large arms under the limp woman, taking care with her injuries. In the king’s arms, she looked no bigger than a child to him, his frame immense compared to hers.

“I…forgot how small they are.” Something in Asgore’s voice made Gaster soften. The war had been so long ago and, like most trauma, the worst scars were the ones that couldn’t be seen. The king had carried the heaviest of burdens during the conflict and still did to this day. The violence, entrapment, and constant struggle of survival for his people weren’t just past problems. They were present reminders of every decision ever made. As frustrated as Gaster was with him at times, Asgore was truly the greatest victim of the war. Gaster summoned and sent out more hallows. “Messengers?”

“Yes. I’ve sent them to gather the rest of the council for an emergency discussion under the strictest confidence, as per your order. Additionally, I’ve sent word to clear my wing of the lab for our arrival, news to the Queen to alert her of the situation with an exclusive seal on the hallow, and have a nightmare on standby to conceal the human during transport.” Asgore looked stunned for a moment, then smiled sheepishly.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you, my friend. You always have everything under control, no matter how incredible the task.” Gaster felt content as he folded his arms behind his back, a common posture for him, as he humbly accepted his friend’s praise.

“You’re simply young, your Majesty. The older you get, the less strange life becomes.” Although the human was a surprise, it was not out of the realms of possibility that one had turned up. The only question they’d have to answer now is what to do with it.


	2. A Difficult Meeting

Gaster sighed as he dismissed the last of the fey hallows. Her injuries had been more troublesome than he'd first expected. Old scar tissue and wounds that had healed improperly had complicated the healing process and eaten up significantly more magic than he'd wanted to spend. One of the worst areas lying underneath a jagged scar beneath her navel. The physician that had been on hand had no pride in his work to say the least. It was uneven and the incision had been poorly made, the line jumping here and there. Even the stitches had been botched as the skin had healed in irregular and, in some spots, profound pinches. It made him angry just looking at it. For a doctor to be so careless was disgusting.

Finished with her injuries, he pulled the nightgown provided by the queen over her. Her dress had been damaged too badly in the fall to piece back together and transport had all but shredded the material. Not that he blamed Asgore. The king did try to keep his claws to a reasonable length, but they had caused too many tiny holes and splits in the poor quality cloth. The queen, hearing of this, had promptly donated an old nightgown. On the human, it was still a dress, too big for her overall. Oh well. He might be able to find something more suitable, and less revealing, later.

His eyes narrowed as he tilted her head back, examining the flushing on her cheeks. Her fever was more pronounced now, sweat forming on her skin despite her chill earlier. He placed a hand on her forehead, summoned a casting hallow, and began to utter a spell. The human's jaw clenched and he stopped. Pain? Perhaps the spell was interfering with the one he'd used for the gash on her head and arm. The fever would have to sort itself out then. It wasn't an immediate threat anyway. And he had to discuss the matter of her fate with the rest of the council. Hopefully he could convince them to let her live, at least until he sorted out how she could understand him.

Gaster turned to leave when his sleeve caught something, tugging his arm. That was strange. There was nothing for it to get stuck on. He glanced down at the hand grasping the fabric, then at the human's face. She was mumbling something, her eyes unseeing as she lingered between sleep and consciousness. Curious, he leaned down to listen but it was gibberish, some language he didn't understand. The mutterings ceased and he straightened. As he prepared to step away once more, she started again.

Something stirred the dust inside of him, a memory he'd left on a shelf long ago. A boy with a fever, sick and scared. He'd wanted to sleep but was afraid he'd never wake again. His mother smiled, knowing it was something that would pass. She removed the scarf from her neck, wrapped it tenderly around her son's vertebrae, and gave him a kiss on the head. Gaster found his own hand resting on his ascot as he returned to the present.

He paused, trying to make sense of these foreign feelings he was experiencing. It had been a long time since he'd remembered his mother, had thought of her. Normally, he'd push the feeling away as it had no place in the current state of events. But, right now, he wanted to hold onto it, for just a moment. The human's head lolled from one side slowly to the other, her eyelids flinching. Was she scared too? He imagined she would be.

Then again, why did he care? Humans were the reason for this whole mess. They were responsible for what happened to his mother, his family, to him. They were barbaric, ignorant, judgemental, greedy beings. And yet...he felt sympathy for her. That was life as a doctor after all. Having an ever-bleeding heart for everyone else. Damned with your own emotions. Reluctantly, he removed the pin from his scarf and pulled it free from his vest. Gaster hesitated, wondering if he really should, before wrapping it around the human's neck and shoulders. Her expression rested, the flinching of her eyelids ceasing as her body and unconscious mind relaxed. Just the same way he had.

~~~~

With Gaster's arrival, the council was now complete and in session. Asgore didn't scold his tardiness. While his friend had been seeing to the human's injuries, it had given him time to change clothes. Normally he wouldn't be so prudent about his attire with an assembly as close or quiet as this one, but the smell of blood had bothered him. It was a stench that he'd never forget and held too many dark memories from the War.

"Thank you all for coming on such short notice," he began. Though he spoke softly, his voice was a warm rumble that filled every empty space in the room. "As stated previously in my message, this is a very delicate matter. Nothing leaves this room. There are no exceptions." He stood, his cape falling around him, hanging like regal curtains from his pauldrons. While the effect of this created a more imposing image, in reality, he did this so his staff wouldn't see him as simply standing there. Asgore knew he was not an animated speaker but knew better than to look fidgety or stiff when addressing important issues. His teacher's lessons had been beyond crucial, even all these years later. "Earlier today, Dr. Gaster and I happened upon a gravely wounded individual in the Ruins of Home." Several looks were silently exchanged, some with concern while others seeming bored at the news. "She has since been recovered from the site and stabilized. However, her fate from here is what will be decided at this meeting. The woman..." He paused, bracing himself for their reactions. "She is human."

Everyone was still as the revelation took hold, sinking in. Clacking sounds, not unlike small wooden blocks striking one another, began to rapidly chatter. The councilor in charge of trade and economy as a whole, Galleon Price, had begun his frantic calculations. As a floating head with a cape of malleable cords and beads, he resembled a living abacus. His compound eyes tracked every movement of every counter on every wire without ever moving his head. Everything from anger to curiosity was expressed on the faces of those around the table. A yellow lizard monster raised a claw. "Yes, Dr. Alphord." The monster nodded and stood, one arm folded behind his back, a habit he'd picked up from his mentor. He was small, even by normal standards, at only five feet tall. However, his presence and authority was greatly respected as the councilor to the science division. Few dared question him on anything, preferring not to attempt a verbal joust against his sharp intellect and harsh wit. Not to mention the thrashing he'd lay to someone's ego for the sake of boosting his own. While Asgore disliked the way the scientist decided that the majority of people were beneath him, he was still one of the most brilliant minds in the Underground.

"I apologize if I sound callous or questioning of his Majesty's decision, but why save the human at all?"

"Human or not, a life is a life. If it can be saved, I believe it is our duty to have Mercy. She has committed no crime nor shown any aggression." Alphord's eyes narrowed.

"Is our banishment down here not one of the worst crimes in the last millennia?" There were several nods of agreement. Asgore expected no less. Many were still bitter about the events leading to their imprisonment, even if most of them were too young to have ever experienced the turmoil of the early days. Even he was sour about the human's presence, if he was honest with himself. Humans had made every decision in his reign a life-or-death scenario and his every action was scrutinized. But he believed in Mercy. A far cry from most, who would love nothing more than to exact revenge on a helpless woman. This wasn't going to be an easy meeting.

"While I agree that it was a crime committed against our race of epic proportions, it was done by those long ago. This human has nothing to do with the decisions of her ancestors. One should only take responsibility for their own actions, not those of their forefathers." The malice dissipated, giving way to reluctant understanding for some.

A lean fish monster stood, his dented armor shifting. Though far from disrepair, it showed clear wear and use, either from battle or intense training was unknown. His eyes were piercing as he'd left off his helm. Nemo was the captain of the royal guard and, thus, the leader of what could be called a militia in these times.

"I tend to agree with Alphord in this matter. A human is a major threat to every monster, maybe even our existence, down here. The peace we share is a fragile one and something as disruptive as a human could shake the balances in place." Several monsters murmured their agreement. The king nodded as well, acknowledging his captain of the guard's concern.

"I think you're exaggerating that just a bit," said the perky voice of Polaris, councilor of communications. Xe was the smallest of the council. At only a foot tall, xe could fit in Asgore's palm. Their body was a series of metal orbs held together by sparking magic, their face an illusion on the top orb. Nemo glared at the tiny monster. "If she's friendly, she could be a light of hope down here. Imagine the news, the stories, she can share! She could even be a symbol of the shift -the change- in humanity to the Underground." Polaris put their hands together with childish excitement.

"Yes, but if she's a typical human, she'll likely be hostile in this new environment, especially once she knows she's trapped with the rest of us." Darcy had joined the debate. With a gelatinous, amorphous hand, she dramatically brushed her gaseous 'hair' out of her face. "And who's to say no one's going to come looking for her?" This wasn't looking good. That was three against already. Asgore glanced to Gaster, hoping for a clue to turn the tide.

"What do you think, Gaster," Alphord asked with unmasked impatience. "It seems his Majesty and yourself have a different view on the matter." Gods, there were times he hated that lizard. Gaster gave his colleague a cool look, like someone addressing a particularly boring child. Nemo took his seat along with Polaris. Neither were willing to be involved now that Gaster was challenged. And while Asgore disliked Alphord's haughty nature, he was the only monster other than himself not afraid of the formidable skeleton.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I do. Aside from the fact that, as doctors, it's our job to save lives, a living human is much more useful than a dead one." He stood, folding his hands behind his back while he used conjured replicas to sign with. "Consider the information she potentially harbors. While we've been stuck down here, time has continued to pass above and, with it, changes in the world and its people. Cultures have changed. Discoveries have been made. Lost things found. Introspection, reflections, and revelations made." He surveyed the room with a charged calm, finally settling his intense gaze on Darcy, Polaris, and Galleon. Alphord held his ground.

"And what good does that do us stuck down here," he snipped. "Their affairs are of no concern to us."

"Wrong." Gaster's tone had been sharp. Asgore recognized the verbal nuance; a teacher correcting a student. He wanted to smile. His friend was conducting a lesson. That was Gaster though. It was as though the doctor was just as thirsty to educate as his pupils often were to learn. "Their affairs are directly influential on us in a number of ways. The materials discarded that make their way down here are connected to their economy, wealth, resources, and general prosperity. The trading of goods and their values may change with perspective on their world. We might even find that something we believe they currently hold in little esteem or need may actually be fundamental in our yearly negotiations." Asgore noticed the change in two of the councilors he'd targeted, Polaris already having agreed to the human's importance. "In addition to the state of affairs above us, there is also the opportunity that we may be able to study a functioning human soul to further understand the barrier and develop away of breaking it." At this, Alphord straightened, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly as the king watched the wheels turn in his mind. "Surely you can see the many advantages of a living subject versus a cold corpse."

"Are you proposing to use her as a test subject?" The king suppressed a shiver at the tone of Alphord's voice, the hiss of satisfaction. He wanted to believe his royal scientist was just excited about a new research project, but Alphord always liked to push moral boundaries for the sake of knowledge. Before Gaster could respond, an unexpected voice joined the debate.

"I understand testing your research on lab animals when necessary, but she is a self-aware individual on the same level as we are. I hardly think treating her as a common beast is ethical or civil," Toriel scolded. Asgore said nothing. He respected his wife's stance on the issue on a personal level; however, as king, he had thousands to consider in the face of a single person. Regardless, he felt nothing but pride in her bravery to voice her feelings so openly. His fluttering feelings faded as he caught the expression on the lizard's face. He had a mixed gaze of holding his tongue in respect and total disregard for her thoughts on the matter, as if a child had just thrown its opinion in an important discussion. Asgore's jaw tightened, his hands tied. He had to remain fair and objective. Nothing was personal.

"Your compassion and empathy are noble and honorable, your Highness, and I respect you for it. However, with resources running thinner by the year and no other means of researching alternative ways of destroying the barrier, we have fewer and fewer options available to us." Toriel looked deflated and sat quietly, conceding. Gaster bowed his head with respect. Asgore took note of the shift in opinion. Not surprisingly, he had single-handedly swayed all but two councilors, Alphord and Nemo. He nodded, pleased with the result.

"Then it is agreed that the human shall live," Asgore clarified. No counter-arguments. Good. "Very well. Are there any further concerns to be addressed?" Nemo raised a gauntlet. "Your thoughts, Captain."

"While I don't agree with the decision, I insist that every precaution needs to be taken handling this situation. Constant surveillance. Guards at all times. And complete silence regarding her existence, especially to the public." Polaris was gobsmacked.

"Absolutely not! She'll be all the news, the chatter, on every monster's lips in less than a day! Can you imagine the headlines for just one day?!"

"Can you imagine the mass panic? There would be hysteria! Monsters vying for her blood, for vengeance. It would be mayhem!" Polaris was about to argue when Asgore spoke.

"I agree with the Captain. The fewer that know of this, the better." Polaris frowned, pouting. "In fact, you may have to do some damage control depending on the situation. She is a secret. The only other people that will be permitted knowledge of or access to her will be discreetly authorized staff appointed by Gaster, Alphord, Nemo, or myself. Forewarn them that, should they make Polaris' job more difficult by leaking information, they face a lengthy imprisonment and the severing of their spirit ties." Toriel started, but settled as her husband gave her a silent reassurance. He would never do such a thing, but he needed the severity of his order to be understood. "Doctors Gaster and Alphord, I put you jointly in charge of research regarding the human and her soul. There is to be no experiment, test, or the like conducted without my express permission and the results will be handed to me personally upon completion of each and every one so I can receive a full breakdown of your progress. Doctor Gaster will be in charge of the human's welfare and care, thus no experiment will be considered without his approval first." Alphord made a face, giving the king a sense of satisfaction. The rivalry between the two would simply persist for the time being. "Captain, you will be in charge of the human's containment and the safety of those working with it. Doctors Gaster and Alphord will apprise you of the times of any experiments so that you may have security present. Should you have any concerns regarding one of the experiments, contact me immediately." That left the remaining three. "Darcy, Qo, and Galleon, you will convene with Gaster for any questions or inquiries regarding the human and it's knowledge. If he deems it safe, with both the Captain's approval and my own, you may interview the human yourself for any direct inquiries." The three of them nodded and it was over.

Asgore dismissed them, each of them now shouldering much heavier tasks than before. As the rest of the council left to begin preparations, Gaster remained. The three of them waited until the doors were closed and any curious ears were well out of range. Asgore let out a deep sigh, relaxing his shoulders and smiling.

"It seems Alphord is on your heels," he remarked. "A shame you two don't get along better." Gaster shrugged.

"His ambition is understandable. He's come a long way from the brash student he used to be." The king knew what his friend was saying without saying. If he truly hated Alphord, he would never agree to work with him, let alone on so many occasions. But their personalities just didn't agree with one another. He was content that Gaster had someone keeping his attention enough to prevent boredom. That's when Gaster got into trouble...

"How is she," Toriel asked.

"Stable. Her external injuries are healed, but a couple of her internal ones will take a few more days. Her arm will require the most extensive recovery but will retain full function." Asgore was relieved. He had been the one to carry her back after all, listening to her struggling breaths with every step. Gaster, while seemingly all powerful, wasn't the strongest monster when it came down to physical strength. Then again, he was a skeleton. A lack of muscles would be an obvious answer.

"Would it be too much if I visit her when she wakes?" Gaster's neutral demeanor dropped as he straightened in his seat, alert and cautious. While Asgore knew what that look meant, Toriel did not, taking it as most did: an intimidating glare. That was yet another difficult thing about him. Not just his peculiar speech, but his natural formidable presence. Even the king remembered a time when he trembled under the skeleton's gaze as a young prince.

"I would advise against it, your Highness. We don't know just what this human's capable of." Toriel took a steadying breath. "It could be hostile."

"Or she might be a scared young lady that has lost everything." Gaster paused, seemingly considering her counter proposal with reluctance.

"On a separate note, what happened to your scarf?" Gaster visibly flinched, his cheekbones dusted with a soft pink, just lighter than his soul color. "Did you get blood on it?"

"Yes," Gaster said, cutting off Asgore's last word. That answer had been much too hurried and the king smiled knowingly at him. His friend was hiding something as he stood, clearly agitated. "I need to get back to the lab. There's much to be done." He hastily bowed his head and left without another word or sign. Toriel raised an eyebrow at her husband, bewildered and confused.

"What was that about?" Asgore have a deep chuckle.

"Oh, nothing I'm sure." She huffed.

"Honestly, I really do not understand that monster. But perhaps that is how gods are." Asgore felt a twinge in his chest at that. Gods. He wanted to wring that idea from every mind and toss it in a fire. There were so few who knew Gaster past his reputation, let alone the true Wingding Gaster. Before the rumors. Before the legend. Before anyone believed that he was truly a god walking amongst them.

"Come. We should get home. I've been looking forward to that roast all day." Toriel smiled up at him, her eyes full of the light he'd never have. And he would protect it. He had faith that the human was good, but nothing would ever stop him if it should bring harm to his Soulmate.


	3. Not That Bright

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The human's awake but not at all what anyone had expected.

Aine became keenly aware of how uncomfortably warm it was. And how soft the bed was. With a wide smile, she snuggled further under the blanket. It smelled nice, like mountain water. She'd rarely had a chance to lay in a real bed and savored the sensation. The pillow felt like a cloud, her head sinking into the fluff.

After a few childish minutes, she decided to take a look at her new surroundings. If she could get up. Only now did she realize her condition. Her left arm was bound against her chest in a tight sling. Using her right, Aine managed to prop herself up. Someone had wrapped it, treated it. Sure, it ached, but it was proper medical care, not just a torn shirt or rags as bandages. That wasn't the only thing. She felt clean, her skin soft and no trace of that sweaty, sticky feeling from work. Her hair had been brushed and cleaned as well, lighter than it normally felt.

Aine gasped with a delighted smile as she looked down. The dress she had on was beautiful! It was a rich amethyst material, sleek and light, that held a soft shine in the gentle light from the sconces. Sapphires decorated the neckline and she watched them sparkle with joyous disbelief. There was a scarf too, but it was out of place against the dress. It was made of a fine material as well, smooth and soft to the touch. She pressed it against her cheek and caught of whiff of something. Aine sniffed at it, a warm smile touching her face as she did so. It smelled like fresh plants, like a garden or forest, and herbal tea. She knew that smell well. There'd been so many times that she made tea in the kitchens. It was a distinct smell to her. Aine decided that she liked the scarf more than the dress and wrapped it snuggly around her neck. Was this really happening?! Had some Prince Charming appeared in her life?

A knock on the door caught her attention. She couldn't help but laugh. Someone was knocking on a door for her. It was surreal.

"Come in," she said jovially. Although she wasn't quite sure what she'd invited in. A goat-dog woman with white fur walked in. She wore a sparkling violet dress and several pieces of silver. For a moment, Aine was generally unsure of what to do. Maybe she was a nurse.

"Hello." The goat lady smiled.

"Hello. I did not expect you to be awake yet." She took another step inside, looking more comfortable. "How do you feel?" Almost in response, she shivered and pulled the scarf closer. Now that she thought about it, she felt a little warm. And achy. Otherwise alright though.

"I'm well. My name is Aine," she offered. The goat woman looked pleased.

"I am Toriel. A pleasure to meet you, Aine."

"Toriel," Aine repeated, cementing her name in her mind. "Can you tell me where I am?"

"You are in the Underground," said a deep voice, a familiar voice, bitterly. Aine straightened and smiled as the doctor walked in. He didn't look so blurry now. He was clearly a skeleton but only now did she see the black lines that stretched from his eyes sockets, over his cheekbones, and down his face. There were also lines from either eye extending halfway back around his skull. Strange. He had no nose. He was several inches taller than she was but still not as tall as Toriel next to him, even without her short horns. Aine smiled at him.

"Thank you for the rescue. You're very kind." The skeleton's eyelights flashed, like he'd blinked. Maybe that was a blink for him. Toriel looked giddy.

"Oh my! She really can understand you without your hands!" Aine tilted her head questioningly.

"What's not to understand? You can hear him, can't you?" The doctor didn't look happy. In fact, he looked like this was a miserable task. It made her uncomfortable, but she decided to push forward. "So, this is a little confusing. Is Hell and the Underground the same thing, then?" Toriel looked shocked as if she'd offended the goat lady and the doctor frowned. "I mean, you're a skeleton and you're a...um..." Aine didn't have a word for Toriel.

"We're monsters. Everyone down here is a monster," the doctor explained tersely. "I'd thought you'd know that considering your complacency and lack of overall fear when seeing us." Aine paused. She'd simply learned not to judge. Even the most charming and beautiful people had been the darkest of souls.

"I guess it's because you're nice. You saved me, treated my wounds, gave me a bed to sleep on. And clothes! I really love this scarf. It smells like tea in a garden. I really appreciate all this!" Both the doctor and Toriel looked dumbfounded. Had she said something odd? Aine was hoping she wasn't making a poor impression on them. "What's your name, sir?" He hesitated.

"You may call me Gaster." Gaster. Aine felt more at ease with him now that she had a name. "You didn't have anything on the surface, I presume?" She shook her head.

"Not a thing." Without warning, Aine got out of bed, causing Gaster and Toriel to stir. She bowed deeply. "I truly appreciate everything you've both done for me. If there's any way I can ever repay your kindness, please don't hesitate to ask." When she straightened, Gaster looked irritated.

"Is there something wrong with you," he asked plainly. Aine chuckled bashfully, silencing Toriel before she could protest to Gaster's abrupt question.

"I get that a lot. I've always been told I'm not that bright, but I try to make up for it by making people smile. If you can get someone to smile, that's more than it's weight in experience or skill." Gaster's frown deepened. She knew that look, especially from scholars. He thought she was stupid, far below him. An ignorant fool. And, she thought truthfully, compared to him, he was probably right. But she just had to keep smiling.

"That is a wonderful view to have, Aine," Toriel praised. Gaster's eyelights swirled like a skeleton version of rolling his eyes.

"Yes and next she'll tell us that it's all sunshine and rainbows between our races." He scowled. "It sounds like you humans have forgotten about us."

"Forgotten?"

"He is speaking of the War. And sealing us all underground." Toriel sounded like she was offering her a chance to jump in, like saying that would jog her memory, but Aine wasn't sure what she was talking about. Although, there was that story long ago from her grandmother. A tale of two races and seven gods, of a golden era of peace, of a bitter war that followed, and the banishment of the demon race beneath a mountain. If what Toriel and Gaster were saying was true, were the demons actually monsters? It wouldn't be a far stretch on words, would it?

Her eyes widened. Then the stories were true. Well, sort of. Not quite. No, something was wrong. The stories told of a barbaric and terrifying race. They ate humans alive, taking pleasure in listening to them scream as they tore them apart. A race of magic users, necromancers and sorcerers that pillaged graveyards and desecrated corpses in every way imaginable for their own dark arts and greed. They'd slaughtered villages and left the occupants on stakes for weeks until they were found. Those were demons. Not a grumpy doctor and a kind goat lady thing. So, had it all been a mistake? Clearly the stories were wrong.

"If what you're saying is true, this is much nicer than the stories. Something must have been confused along the way. They call you demons, but you're really not as bad as any of the tales say at all."

 

It was a startling revelation. Stories? Had humans truly forgotten about them? But how? The War had been so brutal and so long. Countless lives had been lost on both sides. So much of her husband had been ripped away. The light of all things good and pure within him had been all but erased. And still, they had forgotten.

"How are monsters depicted in these 'stories'," the queen asked. Aine waved her hand like batting away and unpleasant idea.

"Nothing like you. They always say how mean and merciless and bloodthirsty you are. But you're clearly not like that at all." She smiled pleasantly, like she'd put the queen's mind at ease that she wasn't seen that way by her. While good, that wasn't her concern at the moment. "I don't know who wrote them but they just got that part wrong. Maybe they met one bad monster and made a bad judgement on all of you for it." Toriel knew better than that. History was written by its survivors, the victors of war, and the dead could not protest the preaching of the living. They had lost. Thus humans could rewrite history however they pleased. "I have a suggestion."

"Yes?"

"Why don't we just go tell them you're not bad at all? Once they see how nice you are, surely this can all be cleared up." Before Toriel could speak, Gaster exploded.

"Of course! How utterly foolish of us to stay down here and suffer from famine and disease rather than just waltz out and clear the air?! My, how stupid we are!" Aine cringed back, bumping into the stone wall behind her. "Clearly we're not intelligent enough to walk out of a complex cavern system without some human to hold our hand!" He scoffed, his eyelights flaring. "I don't know what disgusts me about humans more: your insatiable greed and violence or your complete, blissful ignorance of life around you." And with those ominous words, Gaster left. Silence followed, leaving the queen and the human.

"I-I'm sorry," Aine stammered meekly. "I don't know wh-what I said, but I'm sorry." And she was sincere. Toriel could see it in her eyes, feel it in her soul. There was a beautiful light in the poor girl. She just wasn't very bright was all. Toriel walked further in and sat on the edge of the bed. She patted the empty space next to her, offering Aine to sit. With some hesitation, she did so.

"Aine, I would like to apologize on behalf of Doctor Gaster. He is rightfully very bitter from the War. His hostility is not directed at you personally."

"The War?" The queen nodded solemnly. A history lesson seemed to be in order.

"Long ago, our two races lived in harmony, not side by side, but together as one. We monsters are more gifted with the spirits than humans while humans had stronger wills and souls than us. With our combined might, there was nothing we could not accomplish." Toriel smiled as she remembered those days. "We would have grand feasts that went on for days, our merriment unbridled. Such mirth was shared by the community during harvests, holidays, and, occasionally, for no reason at all. Asgore would twirl me around in dance every chance he got," she said with a chuckle. "Not a care that I was a peasant girl then."

"Asgore?" Right. She had been unconscious when they brought her in.

"My husband, the king of all monsters. He aided in your rescue, carrying you here." Aine gaped.

"A king carried someone like me to aid?!" Curious. 'Someone like her'? Toriel decided to dismiss her questions for now, favoring the lesson.

"Well, as I have said, we do not hate you." The woman seemed to calm, but she still looked troubled about what she'd learned.

"If there was such peace, what happened?" Toriel felt the light vanish from her eyes, her soul sinking. Some secrets would indeed remain.

"There was...an incident. A young monster made a terrible mistake and a life was lost. A human life. From there, resentment grew and tensions between our races escalated out of proportion. Within a generation, we were on the brink of war." Toriel frowned, her soul so very heavy from the night's events. "The humans initiated the War by slaying the royal family. Asgore was the only one to make it. Gaster, having been his tutor, was able to get him to safety but there had been no hope for his brothers and sisters, his parents. They were all lost that night." The human raised her hand to her mouth, her own eyes shining. How open she was. Her heart so empathetic and compassionate. Toriel took comfort that she was not telling this tale to a cold soul. "The War...it was the worst time of our lives, all our lives." She shivered. "We were driven to the mountains where the humans had laid a trap. We were imprisoned in these caverns behind a magical construct. It had been intended to kill us all, to encroach and crush us. A final sweep to clear the canvas of life of our existence. However, one monster was able to keep the spell stagnant."

"The king." Toriel shook her head.

"Gaster." Aine's eyes widened, a child engrossed in the tale. "There is nothing he cannot seem to accomplish. He saved my husband from the royal massacre. He stopped the barrier. He consistantly stamps out the Plight every time it has appeared. He is a god that walks our halls."

"A god?" Toriel nodded.

"Yes. All of monsterkind owes him a great deal, but I am afraid such pressure has made him bitter, along with his own losses in the War. You see, Asgore was not the only one to lose his fam-"

"Your Majesty." Toriel about jumped out of her skin at the skeleton's voice. She thought he had left. As he came from around the corner, she wondered if he had actually be listening the whole time. "I would appreciate it if you refrained from filling my patient's head with nonsense," he signed. Two guards appeared in the doorway. It was time for her to be going anyway. She had accomplished what she'd been asked to do.

"I will see you again soon, child." Aine chuckled.

"If you call me child, maybe I should call you 'mother'." Toriel's soul plummeted and filled with moonmoths at the same time. Mother...

"You will address her as 'Your Majesty', human!" Aine flinched at Gaster's reprimand. Toriel was unsure of what to say, her tongue now heavy and numb, and simply left.

 

Even as she walked through the door, Asgore knew something was amiss. Had he been wrong about the human after all? Tori looked anxious, almost shaken, but not alarmed. The king stood and kissed her in greeting, wrapping his arms around her. Her anxiety melted away, her heart beating with his as they took solace and comfort in the privacy of their home.

"What happened, love?" Tori told him about the human, Aine. About her aloof nature, her child-like kindness, and her open soul. And about the truth of the surface's perception. Asgore seated himself, stroking his beard in thought.

If humans had written them off as fairy tales, or as evil vanquished, this meant that decades of lies has been perpetuated at the treaty summit. It had been understood that monsters had been forgotten, erased from history long ago by the surface's ignorant ancestors. But Aine's testimony was contrary to this. If what she said was true, what else should be called into question?

"There was something else." The king raised his head, putting his own concerns aside.

"Yes?" Toriel looked anxious again, fidgeting with her star sapphire necklace.

"As I left, I bade her farewell, addressing her as a child." She looked down for a moment, her eyes shining when she raised her head again. "Sh-She said that if she was a child, perhaps she should call me mother." Asgore felt his soul tighten as he calmly stood. Tori's mouth worked silently for a moment as she tried to form words. "It sounded really sweet," she squeaked. The king guided her forward, pulling her close with a hand, then arm, over either shoulder. Tori sniffled and trembled against him, every sound and shudder, every sob, echoing through Asgore's soul.

The human had meant no harm when she'd found Tori's weakest spot. But, of all the jewels, the finery, the love he could give his beautiful light, she would never have the one thing she wanted most.

 

Gaster paused, a spare hand holding the lantern in the dark hallway. Everyone had gone home for the day. He'd sent Aine's guards on some pointless errand to keep them occupied. The lab was deserted with himself as the exception. Good. That was what he'd wanted.

He summoned a scout, a hallow that had a very basic form. It looked up at him, its eyes alert and awaiting instruction. Gaster nodded towards the door. The scout acknowledged and walked through the surface. It returned less than a moment later, nodded, and disappeared with Gaster's permission. He opened the door quietly, careful to apply even pressure to avoid the squeaky hinges. His spare hands adjusted the lantern's light to a low, flickering flame as he stepped inside.

Aine was asleep, her breathing regular and stable. Much better than the night before. He gently placed the back of his hand against her forehead, careful not to get any strands of hair caught between his knuckles as he did so. Good. Her fever had broken. That was one less concern.

She stirred, his soul clenching for a moment. But she didn't wake, simply moving her head to the side. He let out the breath he'd been holding. This was ridiculous. The royal physician sneaking into his patient's room just to check on her. And to get his scarf, he reminded himself. He wouldn't be in here just for her. That would be absurd. Gaster's hand lifted the lantern closer and he frowned.

It was around her neck. That was not good. There would be no way he could free it from her without waking her. He sighed quietly, admitting defeat. Gaster turned to leave and cringed as he stepped on a creaky floorboard. Glancing over his shoulder, relief spread through him. She was still asleep. With care, he made his way out of the room and closed the door behind him. The hallway echoed with the sound of his footsteps.

He was content that there was no one to see his face as flushed as it was. That whole escapade had been foolish. All of that to get his scarf back and she had the damn thing wrapped around her own neck. What, because it smelled like his garden? And why did he care? He shook his head, trying to clear away the discomfort of his own thoughts.

All of this was purely scientific interest. Nothing more.


	4. Negligence To Detail

Gaster's plan was a simple one; to gain the human's trust. By doing so, he'd have access to information freely rather than resorting to interrogation or hypnosis. Not only would Asgore not approve, but he was more than clever enough to find a more acceptable solution without a need for force. Regardless of his outburst the day before, it wouldn't be hard to accomplish. The human was already vulnerable and isolated. He had complete control over her environment. Her room, her resources, her nourishment. 

Ah. He'd nearly forgotten that. With a whim, he sent a hallow to fetch his understudy. If she accepted his proposal, he could allocate the human's dietary needs to her instead, thus saving him a lot of headaches in the future with the human's inane questions. As expected, she'd wasted no time arriving, breathless from running.

"You sent for me, doctor," she said excitedly. He nodded.

"Yes, have a seat, Amelia. I need to speak with you regarding something of the utmost discretion." His hallow closed the office door behind her. She straightened, clearly caught off guard, but did as he asked. As Darcy's niece, Amelia was every bit as clever and calculating as her aunt, but lacked the wherewithal to stand by her decisions. And with her tendency to get overexcited, it was a bizarre combination of factors that made her both highly productive and aggravatingly needy at the same time for his approval and attention to the most insignificant details. However, she was still an excellent student, just as promising as any pupil he chose to mentor. "I reiterate the severity of this conversation. You will tell no one. You will not mention it in passing. You will not allude to anything I am about to discuss with you right now. Do you understand?" She placed her hand over her soul and nodded solemnly.

"I understand, doctor. Why have you called me?" Gaster paused, a moment's hesitation before he continued.

"The king has appointed Doctor Alphord and I in charge of a secret research project, one that could potentially change everything. We are each allowed to recruit individuals to aid in the task at our strictest discretion." He could've sworn he'd seen her expression change to something of a crestfallen child, but dismissed it as a trick of the flickering candlelight and his own exhaustion. "Before I continue, this would require your availability at all times, focus, and, above all, your silence of the materials involved. We would be spending an inordinate amount of time in the lab together and I-"

"I'll do it!" She was suddenly excitable again. Honestly, her mood swings were as subtle as plasma strikes. She cleared her throat and settled. "O-Of course, my lips are sealed. I'm at your disposal, doctor." Gaster reached across his desk and took a file from the corner, wondering if he should reconsider. However, Amelia would be invaluable in the task. Her studies into biological chemistry were some of the best he'd seen in years. It was part of why he'd selected her as his understudy in the first place.

"Then you will need this. An overview on our research subject. If you should have any questions, don't hesitate to ask." He handed her the folder and sat patiently as she opened the cover. Her eyes narrowed then grew wide, her thick gel 'hair' starting to squirm. She flipped the page and looked up at him.

"A human?! H-How..." She stopped, lost for words. Gaster told her of the morning's events and the council's discussion. Afterwards, Amelia closed the folder, still awestruck. "So, we're going to...to experiment on a human soul?" Gaster confirmed her query.

"I know it's a lot to take in, but you will have some time to study on human biology until she heals."

"She?"

"Yes. The human is a female named Aine. It will be our responsibility to keep her healthy, both mind and body. As you know, one's mental health affects the soul just as much as their physical condition. This, by no means, is an order to befriend or subjugate to her whims, but rather to keep any ill feelings or resentment in check while in her presence as not to affect our results." Amelia seemed to struggle with that for a moment but drew her shoulders back and nodded.

"You can count on me, doctor."

"Good. Go home and get some rest. We'll start once she's healed in a day or two." Amelia stood and left the office, allowing Gaster a reprieve from her intense energy. She'd have to get that in control one day. Especially being aligned with nightmares. Not easy for one to be an accomplished physician with that kind of a handicap, but she was persistent if all else.

Gaster set a hallow to work preparing tea. There was still so much to be done. Arranging her meals to be made. Setting up both labs inside and outside for soul research. Isolating this section of the building. Discussing experiments and hypotheses with Alphord. Gathering control data. And the list went on through the night. By morning, he was already exhausted, barely staying awake thanks to a third kettle of tea, but there was too much to still be done. First thing was to check up on the human, to monitor her healing process and provide her with food. He detoured to the kitchens to find Mrs. Spaniels already in full swing for breakfast to be served to the rest of the scientists and staff in a few hours. Mrs. Spaniels was an animal classification of monster, her appearance that of a fluffy, white dog with a humanoid structure. Her eyes were an ice blue as they spied him through her spectacles. Gaster braced himself, not at all looking forward to this.

"Good morning," he said politely, though he couldn't put much feeling behind it. She turned, obviously curious about the voice that she couldn't understand from the doorway. Upon seeing him, she smiled and her tail started to wag.

"Oh, good morning, doctor! I'm almost finished with that patient's meal you asked for." He was glad that lie had sufficed to keep her curiosities at bay. After all, the fewer that knew about the human, the better. "I was sure to double check the allergy list as you requested before beginning. They must have a lot of trouble trying to avoid some of these." Gaster nodded. There were things that some monsters couldn't eat depending on the monster and humans were no different. You couldn't feed a slug monster salt and you couldn't feed a human marshmallow mushrooms. Food was generally accepted regardless since resources were becoming thinner, but it wouldn't do to poison the human for convenience. He had fought to keep her alive after all and no life would be lost under his care through something as petty as negligence to detail.

"Thank you. I appreciate your help on such short notice, Mrs. Spaniels." There was an awkward silence as she finished plating and went back to Gaster. He knew what was coming next.

"How is my son doing," she asked softly, as if afraid she might anger him for asking.

"Better than expected, but he's still..." Gaster paused to consider his words. "Halloweed isn't enough. I'm looking into other options." Her ears dropped as did her tail. Gaster felt an inordinate weight in his ribcage, the same weigh he felt every time a life hung precariously by a delicate thread cast by his hand. There were no words he could offer to comfort her, no real hope to give. He'd just have to make her son's last days as comfortable as he could.

"Thank you. I know you're doing everything you can." That was true, but it didn't make him feel any better. It would never be good enough.

 

There wasn't much to the little room, but Aine had no complaints. Instead, she took the time to closely examine each and every aspect of it. Not that she lacked the time to do so. The floor was made of stone tiles, but, unlike other floors she'd seen throughout her life, there was no mortar between them to hold them together. Rather, the tiles were so tight against one another that there wasn't enough room for a single hair to make its way between them. That had to have taken a lot of work to be so precise. The walls were made of something else. She could knock on it and it sounded hollow, but it was as solid as the floor was. There were seven candle sconces in the room, one of them behind the curtain leading to a repurposed closet. Aine was more impressed when she looked behind it. It was a washroom. A washroom inside her room. She'd only seen those inside the manors of the nobles. No chamber pots, no sewage sitting and settling in the room. A child in one of the manors had explained that there was some way that tunnels under the ground moved the waste away to another location when the water pump above was used after the individual had done their business. As for furniture, the only other thing than the bed was the two drawer nightstand at its side.

As she sat on the bed she'd made, with no real help from her throbbing arm, she looked down at her feet, considering the ring around her ankle. Upon closer examination, it looked like silver with various symbols engraved on it. There was no hinge or chain, just a solid hoop of metal. It was a wonder how they'd gotten it on her with it being such a precise fit. Was it meant as a gift? Why were they spoiling her so much?

Her head snapped up, her senses keenly aware of something new. Eggs. And meat. Food. Someone had food in the hallway. Aine's stomach growled and she frowned at it. That wasn't helping. She could hear voices. Two of them were the guards, the other more familiar. She smiled as Gaster entered the room with a knock. The very idea that anyone was using the courtesy of knocking with her was still amusing. He was the one with the food, carrying a plate in one hand and a book under the opposing arm.

"I thought-" He stopped to dismiss his other hands that signed for him. "I thought you might be hungry." Aine flinched. That's not at all what she'd expected. A puzzled expression crossed his face. "Am I wrong?" She shook her head, a spark of hope kindling.

"N-no. I just...is that really for me?" She could hardly believe it as he nodded slowly. She thanked him, took the plate, and sat at the nightstand to eat. Aine mixed the eggs with the potatoes, something she'd always seen done, and took a bite. It was delicious! More so than she'd ever imagined and so much better than what she'd gotten used to eating over the years. After a couple bites of that, she decided to try the sausage. Meat was another luxury reserved for the rich and she'd never gotten a bite of. Aine savored every bite, finishing the entire plate.

"At least I don't have to worry about a loss of appetite," Gaster remarked. And Aine agreed with him.

"Thank you," she said, standing and taking the plate in her good hand. "Is there any way I can go to the kitchen and-"

"Absolutely not." Gaster stood, closing his book and took the plate from her, setting it to the side. "You are not to leave this room unless accompanied by myself or a guard. Do you understand?" That seemed reasonable so she nodded. "Good." He reached out his hand to her face and she flinched. "I just want to check for a fever," Gaster said patiently. Aine felt sheepish. That made sense. Why would he hit her after feeding her and taking care of her after all? It had been a foolish thought.

The bones of his hands touched her forehead gently. She shivered as they were just a bit cold. Gaster didn't seem to notice, focused on what he was doing. Next, he brought his other hand up, placing both of them on either side of her neck just under her chin. His fingertips carefully touched and prodded the area.

"What're you doing?"

"Checking your lymph glands."

"What's that?"

"They're glands associated with your lymphatic system that can be used as an indication of possible bronchial infection or other problems associated with one's throat. Now, shush." After another moment of prodding, he summoned his other set of hands and they began writing in the book he'd brought. "Are you in any pain?" Aine shrugged dismissively but Gaster didn't look pleased. "I ask that you be as honest as possible. If you're genuinely thankful for everything I've done, you can start with honesty." That was true. She just hadn't wanted to complain.

"My arm hurts," she said simply.

"Not surprising. But at least it's in one piece." He touched her injured forearm, laying his hand on her bandages. "While the spell works, do you mind answering some questions?"

"Okay."

"Are you at all familiar with casting?"

"Like fishing?"

"No, like spells." Aine shook her head. "How about hallows?" Again, she shook her head. Now Gaster looked curious. "You've never heard of hallows," he asked, the disbelief in his voice evident.

"No. Are they important?" Gaster raised a hand to point at the door.

"You can't see that?" Aine looked where he was pointing.

"Just the door." The doctor took a breath, like he was in for more than he cared to be. "Is that bad?"

"Not necessarily."

"What are they? Can you teach me?" Gaster suddenly straightened and froze. His eyes fixed on some unseen distance.

 

This was something he hadn't anticipated. She was curious. Yes, many people were but few were comfortable enough with him to ask questions, seeking the answers from their colleagues or other resources rather than asking him directly. In fact, Amelia, Asgore, and Alphord had all elected to fail rather than ask the necessary questions whenever it came to completing tasks assigned to them under his mentorship. It was like they preferred failure as a teacher to himself. It seemed that everyone he encountered was, on some level, afraid of him, intimidated by him. Even Asgore himself.

But this human, clearly aware of her own ignorance, was both humble and curious enough to learn while also comfortable enough with him to ask for his tutelage. She was looking at him like his youngest patients, full of questions and spark. Why not indulge her?

"In this world, there are a number of spirits, forces, and the like in existence," he began. "They inhabit this world alongside us, helping keep the balance of nature and the planes beyond."

"Planes?"

"Worlds other than our own." Aine's face lit up with wonder.

"There are other worlds," she asked excitedly.

"Yes, but those are for another time." She settled and kept her gaze on him. Fascinating. The human was willing to keep consistent eye contact with him for a length of time. Most people turned away or let their eyes dart around the room, trying to look anywhere but him. "These spirits balance each other as two opposing forces. We refer to these forces as light and dark, but they are much more abstract than that. Hallows are spirits of light, while Nightmares are dark spirits." Aine's star struck expression changed as she absorbed the information, reminding him of still waters, pensive and thoughtful. "Hallows are largely responsible for healing, protection, the production of light, and other benevolent tasks. Nightmares are used for combat, stealth, shadowcraft, and malevolent or subversive actions." Gaster tapped the splint on her arm lightly, the feys fluttering their delicate wings in response. "There are hallows here giving you some relief and aiding in the healing process." Aine's gaze fell to her arm like she was seeing it for the first time.

"So, they help you with magic?" He hummed thoughtfully, mulling over the wording for his answer.

"To be accurate, they are magic. One can direct them and utilize them, if skilled enough. We monsters simply provide the energy and direction for them to follow."

"Can humans do it too?" His soul felt heavy as memories crept back to him.

"They used to. They didn't even have to choose, so they were particularly dangerous." He remembered when they'd banded together, those seven mages. Flashes of light and shadow. The screams and cries of the wounded and dying. Panic. Terror. The encroaching wall of death encompassing them, threatening to close its hands around them and smother them. All of them. All monsters. That moment.

"Choose?" Aine's question brought him back to the room bathed in candlelight.

"Yes," he started as his head came back to the original topic. "Human souls are strong enough to freely use either force. Monster souls, however, can only align with one upon reaching maturity. One can either choose hallows or nightmares." That gave her pause.

"Which do you use?"

"Care to guess."

"I'm not sure." He raised an eyebrow.

"Well, I'm a doctor so the logical choice would be hallows." To his own surprise, she shook her head. "So, you think I'm Nightmare aligned?" The human's eyes were fixed on him, her smile lost as she stared at him, into him. Gaster straightened, his bones starting to itch.

"You don't seem like either. Something else." The feys dispersed. "Or both?" Gaster's hands closed his book a little harder than he'd meant, startling them both. He fought his own nerves to look neutral, force neutral.

"Well, you seem perfectly fine for now." He stood, careful not to make eye contact with her. "I will be by later to check on you again." As Aine got to her feet, he left hastily, the door locking behind him. Gaster waited until he was down the corridor and on the other side of his office door to unravel.

How could she know?! How could she be that accurate?! He remembered some humans having an uncanny sixth sense, but this was different. Perhaps Toriel had let it slip? No, she didn't even know about the choice before he'd told her. And he hadn't used a nightmare in her presence. Not that she could see spirits anyway. It explained why she'd been so oblivious to his spellwork. He shivered as he recalled his grandmother's words. The one that would understand him in every way... He sighed, feeling heavy. He wondered if fate was some child simply playing a game with him, laughing at his twisted misfortune. How could fate be so inexplicably cruel?


End file.
